


Solace

by Hot_elf



Series: Dragon Age - series 7 (Megan Cousland / Revon Hawke / Alec Trevelyan) [19]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Comfort Sex, Dark, F/M, Grey Wardens, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Fantasy, The Calling, Twisted, Warden Dies, and Meg's fantasy life is pretty messed-up, and angsty as hell, but really it's depressing, well they're not quite dead yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 17:32:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6124584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hot_elf/pseuds/Hot_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair and Megan Cousland are travelling together for the last time, on their way to Orzammar for their Calling, giving each other support and what little solace there is to be found.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solace

When the nightmares got worse, they took to sleeping in one bedroll, huddled together as closely as they could. Megan had thought she'd seen it all, during the Blight, when the Archdemon was close. But now, with the Calling a constant low buzz in her blood, the dreams were so vivid and so horrifying that she awoke screaming, more often than not.

Alistair was kind and patient, holding her, dabbing the sweat on her forehead with a piece of soft cloth and murmuring words of encouragement in her ears. _Not long now, not far to Orzammar._ And she did the same for him, when he thrashed in her arms, crying and shivering. _Just a little while. Soon it will be over_. It was all they could hope for now, a quick end, taking as many darkspawn as possible with them.

They'd found that it helped to talk about the dreams. Putting them into words seemed to rob the awful images of their strength and allow them to proceed with their daily business. Getting up, washing in some stream or other, checking surreptitiously for marks showing the progress of the Taint, grabbing a bite, saddling the horses. Back on the road again. _Not far now_. Another night, another camp, more nightmares.

"Megan. Megan!" Alistair roughly shook her awake. "Wake up."

Moaning, she forced her eyes to open to the silver-grey light oozing through the tent's planes, shivering in the early morning chill that had settled over the lower ranges of the Frostback Mountains. "It's fine. I'm awake."

He raised an arm invitingly, and she settled against his broad shoulder, savouring his warmth.

"Wanna tell me about it?" Alistair gently stroked her back.

It was sweet of him to ask. Only, this time it hadn't really been a nightmare, and Megan's cheeks grew hot at his question. "No. Yes. I don't know. It was… a different kind of dream."

"You mean an actual pleasant dream? Well, then tell me anyway." She couldn't see Alistair's face, but his voice was warm. "Maker knows, we could do with something to cheer us up."

Megan hesitated. "I wouldn't say it was pleasant. Well, it was, but…" She took a deep breath. "It was a fantasy I've had for quite a while. I've never told anyone about it. It's pretty… explicit. Sordid, really."

"Oh." She didn't need to see him to know that he was blushing fiercely. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's okay." Megan felt a warm surge of affection for him. How could he possibly still be so cute and innocent, after all those years? "It does have something to do with being a Warden, actually."

"Now you've made me curious." It was said lightly, but his arm tightened a little around her shoulders, and something stirred inside Megan, a mischievous, provocative flutter that she had thought was already dead and gone.

"All right. But remember, I warned you." She cleared her throat. "In this dream, I've only just gone through my Joining, and I'm confused and horny. Burning, craving, shaking with need. Well, you know how it is." He made a small, affirmative noise in the back of his throat. "And then Duncan shows up and takes me to a room, or a tent maybe, I don't really know, but it's full of Wardens. All men, every single Warden I've ever known or met, even the ones that couldn't possibly be there yet, like Carver and Liam and Anders… Even the ones that died in the Joining. Daveth is there, and-" She broke off, unsure of whether to proceed.

"And?" Alistair's hand was still on her back, moving in soft circles.

"Duncan…" Megan had to force herself to go on now. "He tells me they're going to _welcome me properly into the Wardens_ now. He says… They're all going to fuck me, every single one of them. They're going to make the hunger go away. They're all staring at me, every single one of them, while I get naked. And then they take their own clothes off and it begins. Duncan first, and then all the others."

"Maker, Megan." Alistair sounded deeply shocked. "Duncan would never have-"

"I know it's stupid. Absurd, even. And yes, it would be horrible to have something like that happen to me in real life. A nightmare." Megan hid her face against his chest. "But the odd thing is that in this dream, it doesn't feel like a violation. It feels good. It's what I want. All of them, taking turns, sometimes two or three at the same time. Nate, Daveth, Riordan. Heck, even Stroud, and Maker knows I've never wanted to bed _him_. But I take them all, begging for more. And whenever I get too sore or too exhausted, Anders casts a restoration spell so I can go on."

"Am I…" Alistair swallowed hard. "Am I there, too?"

"Of course you are." Megan smiled fondly against his skin. "You're one of the first in line, taking me from behind, on all fours."

"Megan!" Again, he sounded appalled, but at the same time, if she wasn't very much mistaken…

A quick brush of her hips against his crotch confirmed her suspicions. Yes, he was fully aroused, magnificently hard, and sweet Andraste, he was even bigger than she had imagined.

"Alistair…" Reaching down, she carefully ran a hand along his length, caressing him through the leather of his breeches, but he immediately caught her wrist and made her stop.

"Leave it be, Megan. You've never wanted me in all your life." He sounded a tiny bit hurt by the admission, but there was no heat in his words.

And in a way, he was right. Megan had never tried to seduce him, never even flirted with him, for all that they'd been close during the Blight. It had always seemed like a betrayal of their friendship, with Alistair so young, so serious, so oddly pure. Megan had instinctively known that if she ever slept with him, he would want more. He would want it all, love, romance, a life together, and she wasn't ready to give it to him. So she'd kept her distance, content with ogling his body and having fun with others.

"Maybe that's true." Freeing her hand from his grasp in one smooth twist, she resumed her caresses. "But right now, it seems _you_ want _me_ , or at least we both want _something_. Fun, warmth, solace… whatever you want to call it."

"That's all it ever would be for you, right?" Alistair didn't even sound bitter, just tired and resigned. Again, he took hold of her wrist. "Look Megan, this is pointless. You belong with Nate and Carver. And I'm still married to Anora, even if she couldn't care less. We can't-"

"And why can't we? Just this once?" Suddenly, it all came rushing to the surface, all the feelings she'd locked away so carefully. "They won't know and it won't hurt them. It's not as if we'll ever see either of them again. We're dying, Alistair. We're on our way to an ugly and painful death. We've given everything, we've given our _lives_ , and we don't owe anybody a thing. Not anymore."

Alistair didn't reply, but he tensed even further against her, as if he was struggling to hold back. And he was warm and solid and she felt so safe in his arms.

Grasping his large hand, Megan moulded it around her breast. "Please. I want to see you smile one more time, before we go down there. I _know_ I can make you feel good. Please let me."

A shudder went through his whole body. "Meg. Yes."

It was all the encouragement she needed. Moments later he was bare to her touch, hot and hard and lovely, and she couldn't wait to get her mouth on him. He groaned sharply when she sucked him in, holding on to her head with both hands, bucking into her mouth with a desperate whine when she swirled her tongue around him. Megan moaned around him, relishing it all: his taste; the silkiness of his skin; the way he responded so beautifully to her caresses.

She would have to slow down if she wanted more, though, so she moved up again and met his lips for a long, greedy kiss. Alistair was shaking, his forehead covered in fine pearls of sweat, and his eyes… Maker, his eyes! So many things she could read in them: devotion; tenderness; fear; pain. For a heartbeat, she wondered whether she ought to call a halt, but the throbbing between her legs was too insistent already.

Straddling him, she lowered herself onto that beautiful cock, moaning deep in her throat as he filled her, so hot, so thick, so hard. _So good_.

Alistair didn't speak, hardly made a sound, as she rode him, but his hands found her breasts almost of their own accord, kneading them gently, his thumbs teasing her taut nipples. And when she grew tired, her motions slowing down, he flipped her over and took control.

And for all his lack of experience or finesse, he managed to give her exactly what she craved, pounding into her with the pent-up force of a lifetime of desire, his skin burning hot on hers, his eyes pinning her down with their feverish gaze. He wasn't gentle, but he wasn't brutal either, just dogged and patient and relentless, until she arched up under him, digging her nails deep into his back and dragging him with her into a single moment of sweet oblivion. And for that one precious moment, she felt alive again, alive and vibrant and _real_.

He rolled over on his back afterwards, taking her with him, staring at the tent's ceiling with unseeing eyes. "Blight it. That was-" He drew a long, shuddering breath. "I needed that. Thank you, Meg."

"My pleasure." She trailed a finger along his lips. "Smile for me."

And he did, that sweet, goofy smile that she remembered so well, from back when they'd first met at Ostagar, so long ago. Two Wardens, out to save Ferelden from the Blight, with nothing but their own determination and the bond of their friendship to see them through. And somehow, they had done it. The evil had been vanquished, the land was as safe as it would ever be, because they had dedicated their lives to making it so.

They had quarrelled and loved and fought and lived. And now they were at the end of their path, and it was all good. Nothing to be done, nothing to regret.

They had done their best.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Huggles and thanks to my wonderful beta suilven.


End file.
